Chocolate Cream Pie Murder Read online

  Books by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah Swensen Mysteries

  CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER

  STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MURDER

  BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER

  LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER

  FUDGE CUPCAKE MURDER

  SUGAR COOKIE MURDER

  PEACH COBBLER MURDER

  CHERRY CHEESECAKE MURDER

  KEY LIME PIE MURDER

  CANDY CANE MURDER

  CARROT CAKE MURDER

  CREAM PUFF MURDER

  PLUM PUDDING MURDER

  APPLE TURNOVER MURDER

  DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE MURDER

  GINGERBREAD COOKIE MURDER

  CINNAMON ROLL MURDER

  RED VELVET CUPCAKE MURDER

  BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER

  DOUBLE FUDGE BROWNIE MURDER

  WEDDING CAKE MURDER

  CHRISTMAS CARAMEL MURDER

  BANANA CREAM PIE MURDER

  RASPBERRY DANISH MURDER

  CHRISTMAS CAKE MURDER

  CHOCOLATE CREAM PIE MURDER

  JOANNE FLUKE’S LAKE EDEN COOKBOOK

  Suspense Novels

  VIDEO KILL

  WINTER CHILL

  DEAD GIVEAWAY

  THE OTHER CHILD

  COLD JUDGMENT

  FATAL IDENTITY

  FINAL APPEAL

  VENGEANCE IS MINE

  EYES

  WICKED

  DEADLY MEMORIES

  THE STEPCHILD

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  CHOCOLATE CREAM PIE MURDER

  JOANNE FLUKE

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Baking Conversion Chart

  Teaser chapter

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2019 by H.L. Swensen, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2018912500

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-1886-0

  First Kensington Hardcover Edition: March 2019

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2552-3 (signed edition)

  ISBN-13: 1-4967-2552-2 (signed edition)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1888-4 (e-book)

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-1888-7 (e-book)

  This book is for Karen Auerbach.

  Team Swensen misses you!

  Acknowledgments:

  Many thanks to my extended family for putting up with me during the writing of this book.

  You all deserve second pieces of Chocolate Cream Pie.

  A big hug to Trudi Nash for her ability to read through a recipe and immediately know exactly how it’s going to taste, and marrying a man who doesn’t seem to mind all the time we spend on food talk.

  Thank you to my friends and neighbors: Mel & Kurt, Lyn & Bill, Gina, Dee Appleton, Jay, Richard Jordan, Laura Levine, the real Nancy and Heiti, Dan, Mark & Mandy at Faux Library, Daryl and her staff at Groves Accountancy, Gene and Ron at SDSA, and everyone at Homestreet Bank.

  Hugs to my Minnesota friends: Lois & Neal, Bev & Jim, Val, Ruthann, Lowell, Dorothy & Sister Sue, and Mary & Jim.

  A big hug to my brilliant editor, John Scognamiglio, who never loses patience with me. I’m still trying to figure out exactly how he does that.

  Thanks to Karen Auerbach, who shepherded Raspberry Danish Murder and Christmas Cake Murder through the publicity maze.

  And thanks to all the other wonderful folks at Kensington Publishing who keep Hannah sleuthing and baking yummy goodies.

  Thank you to Robin, who manages to keep from tearing her hair out when I ask stupid questions about production.

  Big hugs for Meg Ruley and the staff at the Jane Rotrosen

  Agency for their constant support and their sage advice.

  And thanks for being there every time I call.

  Thanks to Hiro Kimura for his scrumptious cover art.

  It’s just not fair that your Chocolate Cream Pie is prettier than mine!

  Thank you to Lou Malcangi at Kensington for designing all of Hannah’s gorgeous book covers. They’re always just wonderful.

  Thanks to John at Placed4Success for Hannah’s movie and TV placements, his presence on Hannah’s social media platform, the countless hours he spends helping me, and for believing that it’s what a son should do.

  (If you meet John, please don’t tell him that not all sons work as hard as he does.)

  Thanks to Rudy for managing my website at wwwJoanneFluke.com and for giving support to Hannah’s social media.

  And thanks to Annie for helping with social media and everything else.

  Big thanks to Kathy Allen for the final testing of Hannah’s recipes and coming up with her own recipes like the Frozen Sugared Grapes!

  And thanks to Kathy’s friends and family for taste testing.

  A big hug to JQ for helping Hannah and me for so many years.

  Hugs to Beth for her gorgeous embroidery.

  Thank you to food stylist, friend, and media guide Lois

  Brown for her expertise with the launch parties at Poisoned

  Pen and the TV baking segments at KPNX in Phoenix.

  Hugs to the Double D’s and everyone else on Team Swensen.

  Thank you to Dr. Rahhal, Dr. and Cathy Line, Dr. Levy, Dr. Koslowski, and Drs. Ashley and Lee for answering my book-related medical and dental questions.

  Big hugs to all the Hannah fans who share their family recipes, post on my Facebook page, Joanne Fluke Author, and read the Hannah books.

  You’ve been asking for this book and here it is!

  Chapter One

  It was a cold Sunday morning in February when Hannah Swensen left the warmth of her condo and drove to Lake Eden, Minnesota. A frown crossed her face as she traveled down Main Street and passed The Cookie Jar, her bakery and coffee shop. It had snowed during the night, and they would have to shovel the sidewalk before they could open for business in the morning.

  Hannah gunned the engine a bit as she began to drive up the steep hill that led to Holy Cross Redeemer Lutheran Church. The church sat at the very top and it overlooked the town below. Hannah pulled into the parking lot and came very close to groaning as she realized that her entire family was standing at the bottom of the church steps, waiting for her to arrive. Perhaps their intent was to allay her anxiety about what she planned to do, but it didn’t work and Hannah was sorely tempted to turn
around and put things off for another week. Of course she didn’t do that. Hannah was not a quitter. Somehow she had to gather her resolve and carry on with as much grace and dignity as she could muster.

  The first person to arrive at her distinctive cookie truck was Hannah’s youngest sister, Michelle. Hannah resisted the urge to tell Michelle that she ought to be wearing boots and plastered a welcoming smile on her face. “Michelle,” she said, by way of a greeting. “Get in the backseat. It’s cold out there.”

  “I’m okay. I just wanted to be the first to talk to you, Hannah. Are you completely sure that you want to do this?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Of course I don’t want to, but I don’t really have a choice. It’s only right, Michelle.”

  “But you don’t have to do it, not really,” Michelle argued, sliding onto the backseat and shutting the door behind her. “Word gets around and everyone’s probably heard what really happened by now.”

  “That’s doubtful, Michelle. Nobody in our family has said anything to contradict our cover story for Ross’s absence. And I know that Norman and Mike haven’t mentioned it to anyone. You haven’t heard any gossip about it, have you?”

  “No,” Michelle admitted.

  “And you know the whole town would be buzzing about it if anyone knew.”

  “Well . . . yes, but we can figure out another way of telling them. You don’t have to put yourself through the pain of getting up in front of the whole congregation and talking about it.”

  “Yes, I do. They deserve an explanation. And they also deserve an apology from me for lying to them.”

  The front door opened and Hannah’s mother, Delores, picked up the heavy cookie platter that was nestled on the passenger seat and got in. “I heard what you just told Michelle and you’re wrong, Hannah. No one here expects you to apologize. What happened is no fault of yours.”

  The other back door of Hannah’s cookie truck opened and Hannah’s middle sister, Andrea Swensen Todd, got in. “And nobody here wants to see you upset. If you think we owe anyone an apology, let me do it. I can get up there and tell them what happened.”

  “Thanks, but no. It’s nice of you to offer, Andrea, but this is something I have to do myself.”

  “I understand, dear,” Delores said, “but I wish you’d told me your plans earlier. We could have gone shopping for something more appropriate for you to wear.”

  Hannah glanced down at her blue pantsuit. “A lot of women wear pantsuits to church, especially in the winter. What’s wrong with mine?”

  “Nothing’s wrong . . . exactly,” Delores explained. “It’s just that the color washes you out. At least you’re here early and we have time to fix your makeup. A darker color lipstick would do wonders, and you need some blusher on your cheeks.”

  Andrea opened her purse and glanced inside. “Mascara and eye shadow couldn’t hurt. I’ve got something that would bring out the color of Hannah’s eyes.”

  “And I can do something with her hair,” Michelle offered.

  “Hold it right there!” Hannah told them. “My appearance doesn’t matter that much. What really matters is what I’m going to say. I’ve worn this same outfit to church at least a dozen times and you’ve never criticized my appearance before.”

  “Today is different,” Delores pointed out. “Grandma Knudson told me that you asked to stand in the front of the church right after Reverend Bob makes his announcements. Everybody’s going to see . . .” Delores stopped speaking and a panicked expression crossed her face. “You’re not planning to wear your winter boots, are you?”

  Hannah had the urge to laugh. She had never, in her whole life, walked down the aisle of their church wearing winter boots. She came very close to saying that, but she realized that the root of her mother’s concern was anxiety about how the congregation would receive what Hannah had to tell them.

  “Relax, Mother,” Hannah told her. “I brought dress shoes with me and I’ll change in the cloakroom as soon as we get inside.”

  Delores nodded, but she still looked worried. “Your dress shoes aren’t brown, are they?”

  “No, Mother. I know how you feel about wearing brown shoes with blue. These are the black shoes we bought at the Tri-County Mall last year.”

  “Oh, good!” Delores drew a relieved breath and glanced at the jeweled watch her husband, Doc Knight, had given her. “Then let’s go, girls. It’ll take us a while to get Hannah ready.”

  Hannah wisely kept her silence as she walked to the church with her family. Once the cookies she’d brought for the social hour after the church service had been delivered to the kitchen next to the basement meeting room, Hannah suffered her family’s attempt to make her into what Delores deemed church appropriate.

  “It’s time,” Delores declared, glancing at her watch again. “Follow me, girls.”

  As they walked down the center aisle single file, Hannah spotted her former boyfriend, Norman Rhodes. Norman was sitting on one side of his mother, and Carrie’s second husband, Earl Flensburg, was sitting on her other side. Norman smiled at Hannah as she passed by and he held his thumb and finger together in an okay sign.

  Hannah swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in her throat and reminded herself that she knew almost everyone here. The Holy Redeemer congregation consisted of friends, neighbors, and customers who came into The Cookie Jar. They would appreciate her apology and no one would be angry with her . . . she hoped.

  She was beginning to feel slightly more confident when she noticed the other local man she’d dated, Mike Kingston. He was sitting with Michelle’s boyfriend, Lonnie Murphy, and both of them smiled and gave her friendly nods. Mike was the head detective at the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department and he was training Lonnie to be his partner. Both men usually worked on Sundays, but they must have traded days with a pair of other deputies so that they could come to hear Hannah’s apology.

  Doc Knight saw them coming up the aisle and he stepped out of the pew so that they could file in. Hannah went first so that she would be on the end and it would be easier for her to get out and walk up the side aisle to the front of the church when it was time.

  “Are you all right?” Michelle asked her as they sat down.

  It took Hannah a moment to find her voice. “Yes, I’m all right.”

  “But you’re so pale that the blusher on your cheeks is standing out in circles.” Michelle reached for the hymnal in the rack and flipped to the page that was listed in the church bulletin.

  “Is something wrong?” Andrea asked in a whisper.

  “Everything’s fine,” Hannah told her, pretending to be engrossed in reading the verse of the familiar hymn they were preparing to sing.

  The organist, who had been playing softly while people filed into the church, increased the volume and segued into the verse of the hymn. This precluded any further conversation, and Hannah was grateful.

  If there had been a ten-question quiz about the sermon that Reverend Bob delivered, Hannah would have flunked it. She was too busy worrying about what she wanted to say to pay attention. There were times during the sermon that Hannah wished Reverend Bob would hurry so that she could get up, apologize, and go back home. At other times, she found herself wishing that the sermon would go on forever and she’d never have to walk to the front of the church and speak.

  When Reverend Bob finished, stepped down from the pulpit, and went into the room at the side of the nave to hang up his vestments, the butterflies of anxiety in Hannah’s stomach awoke and began to churn in a rising cloud that made her feel weak-kneed and slightly dizzy. She concentrated on breathing evenly until Reverend Bob reappeared in the black suit he wore once the sermon was over.

  The announcements Reverend Bob made were short and sweet. There was a request for donations of canned food from the Bible Church for their homeless shelter in the church basement, an announcement of the nuptials scheduled on Valentine’s Day, a reminder that the lost and found box in the church office was overflowing with
forgotten mittens, gloves, and caps, a notice of a time change in Grandma Knudson’s Bible study group, and two notifications of baptisms to be held after church services in the coming month.

  “And now we have a special request from Hannah Swensen,” Reverend Bob told them. “She’d like to say a few words to you before the social hour.”

  Hannah stood up and slid out of the pew. She walked up the aisle at the side of the church on legs that shook slightly to join Reverend Bob. She cleared her throat and then she began to speak.

  “Almost everyone in the congregation today attended my wedding to Ross Barton in November. Most of you were also at the Lake Eden Inn for the reception.”

  There were nods from almost everyone in attendance and Hannah went on. “I asked to speak to you today because I need to apologize. I think you all know that Ross is gone, and my family and I told you that he was on location for a new special that he was doing for KCOW Television. That is not true. I’m sorry to say that we lied to you and we owe you an apology for that.”

  “If Ross isn’t out on location for a special, where is he?” Howie Levine asked.

  Hannah wasn’t surprised by the question. Howie was a lawyer and he always asked probing questions. “Ross is in Wisconsin.”

  “Is he filming something there?” Hal McDermott, co-owner of Hal and Rose’s Café, asked.

  “No. I’ll tell you why he’s there, but first let me tell you what happened on the day Ross left Lake Eden.”